


celebrations in five

by macbethattempest



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, New Year's Eve, Smut, St. Patrick's Day, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7164236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macbethattempest/pseuds/macbethattempest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five festivals/holidays that Darcy Lewis and James "Bucky" Barnes celebrated.</p><p> (Christmas, Halloween, St.Patrick's Day, Valentine's Day, New Year's Eve)</p>
            </blockquote>





	celebrations in five

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to fluff land, kids.

**#1 : Halloween**

Streamers and ghost boppers hung around the entire Stark Tower hall where people teemed in abundance, creating a cacophony of noises.

Halloween was supposed to be trick and treating time for kids and James was stuck here, in a Halloween party, for God's sake, thrown by Stark, for God's sake, where rich people congregated together in strange outfits and pretended to socialise.

Waste of time.

He'd rather be fucking Darcy in their bedroom right now.

Or maybe his car.

Or maybe-

He blinked away the train of thoughts that pervaded his brain and cast an eye around. His eyes caught Steve's across the room and he cast an exasperated look towards him. Steve reciprocated, shrugging in his Captain America stealth suit which he'd chosen as his costume.

James spotted Darcy near the post, standing alone, her head bent, dressed in a black catsuit, her hair pulled behind her in a sleek ponytail, wearing a black cat hair band, her feet in pointed heeled boots.

 _Catwoman_.

James shook his head and smiled. As he strolled closer to her, he saw she was engrossed in an ouija board, of all things.

He slipped behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, indicating her of his presence and then moved opposite to her on the small plate sized round wooden table, both of them not very keen on public displays of affection.

She looked up at him, her eyes distracted and then she blinked, taking him in, the dazed look fading from her eyes. She gave him a look. "You wore a three piece suit", she told him pointedly, eyeing his tied back hair. " _How Halloween-y._ "

"Is that even a word?" James asked, grabbing a beer from a nearby waiter.

Darcy gave him another look, her hands crossed over her chest, her breasts puffing up with the movement, her lips twisted and her entire attention on him. James nearly hardened.

He shrugged. "I'm dressed as James Bond."

Darcy nearly smiled, but bit her lip to stop the smile from peeking through. Instead, she raised her eyebrows in a gesture of a resigned 'fine' and went back to her ouija board.

"What are you asking this stupid contraption?" James asked, sipping his drink.

"It's not stupid", Darcy informed him. "I'm asking whether I had an ancestor who was, in any way, royalty or not?"

"Why?"

"Because then every year when I pray for a time machine on my birthday, I'd want to go to that time."

James scrunched his face at her.

"You know what I'd rather be doing?", he asked, leaning one elbow on the table.

"I don't really want to know but go on", she sighed exaggeratedly. And then she suddenly straightened and looked up at him, her eyes brightened with excitement.

"Let's ask the ouija board!", she whispered frenziedly.

James took in her excitement and her bright face, and then he smiled a slow tender smile that he reserved only for her. Darcy rightly took that as affirmative and in her best serious voice spoke to the ouija board after shaking the dice arranging the pieces, "what does James Barnes want to do right now?"

There was a whoosh and the letters started rearranging on the board. Both of them looked at the board steadily; Darcy genuinely curious and James playing along for her sake.

The words stopped moving and revealed themselves.

Darcy's eyes widened to saucer like proportions. She looked at James and then at the board. And then again at James and the board.

James looked at her, mock serious. "I think we should do it."

Darcy's eyes narrowed at him.

"Your ouija board told you that", James spoke, leaning forward, his face inches from Darcy, her breath speeding up.

"We are at a party", she spoke hushedly, conflicted.

"Which we can ditch", James informed her, his eyes on her lips.

She worried her lip between her teeth.

"And our quarters are just two floors up", he spoke with raised eyebrows.

Darcy blinked twice.

And then she took his hand, marching them off towards the personal quarters, her enthusiasm increasing with each step, and James' arousal increasing with every breath.

As Steve saw them go, he walked towards their table which they were leaving and happened to glance at the words scribed on the ouija board.

 _Fuck_.

 

**#2 : Valentine's Day**

James was at an undercover mission in an unknown place. Underline the word undercover.

Darcy hadn't had contact with him for nearly two weeks.

Though it wasn't uncommon for this to happen, she still hated it all the same and as she woke up on the morning of February the fourteenth, she absolutely loathed it.

Now, her and James had never really considered Valentine's Day a huge thing, but they'd done small things for each other, all the same.

And she'd looked forward to the small things in all the three years.

She stepped out of her bed and stomped over to the kitchen, eating her toast when she saw a beautifully laid breakfast on a tray; a toasted bread with a jam heart on it, a coffee mug creamed with a smiley and a sealed envelope marked with the words : 'From Tony'.

Despite of her mood, her lips tilted in a small smile. _Cute_.

And then she looked at her toast again. Her mood soured.

When she reached Jane's lab in the Stark Tower itself, she was greeted by the sight of fifty huge bouquets of red roses placed on the floor in the lab and a dazed Jane sitting between them, her eyes nearly glazed. As her gaze fell on Darcy, she whispered, "Thor".

And Darcy smiled, her lips pursed, walking over to the adjacent room to work on her papers and give Jane's overflowing feelings some privacy.

Darcy exhausted herself with work that day, having nothing else to do, completing almost all her assignments of the week and it was nearly midnight when she returned to her quarters, bone weary and fatigued.

She picked up her phone and checked the voice messages, removing her heels and setting them on the counter; one from Coulson to ask about the new paper formats and two from Selvig asking about her day and confirming the Stark Science Expo reservations with her.

She was replying to both of them via text when her phone notified her of a new voice mail from an unknown number. Darcy frowned, loosening her hair from her bun.

Unknown number? At this time of the night?

She opened the voicemail.

"Hey sweetheart"

And she nearly collapsed.

The familiar baritone rang across her skin, tingling her entire body.

 _James_.

"Happy Valentine's Day.

I'm somewhere on the opposite side of the world right now, dodging bullets and capturing people and I just wanted to tell you, I miss you every fucking second.

This is a burn phone, don't call me back yes, love?

I love you."

Darcy looked up at the ceiling, blinking tears from her eyes, her throat thick with inexplicable emotion.

And she fell asleep, still in her formal skirt and blouse, her phone clutched to her chest, a smile on her face.

 

**#3 : St.Patrick's Day**

"Do you have a leprechaun fetish?"  
A blank look aimed her way.  
"I mean, if you do, you shouldn't be shy. Tell me. I think I could really act out the leprechaun."  
An eyebrow raise.  
"Okay so you don't."  
Another eyebrow raise.  
"Can you just talk?"  
A lip purse.  
"I am just trying to spice things up."  
A cluck of the tongue.  
"Trying to amp up the game from old boring sex."  
The corner of his lips lifted.

They both recognised the blatant lie in the statement.

Their sex life was anything but old or boring. It was fucking smashing, if one was to put it into words. They did everything; from role play to bondage to being them.

James huffed himself up from the bar stool, smirked at her and leaned across the table towards her body. She didn't move an inch, letting him close the distance between their bodies, as he placed his lips at her ear.

"I'm going to the bar", he spoke, low in his throat. "Want something?"

"No", Darcy replied, pointing to her unfinished cosmopolitan.

James nipped at her ear, startling her and sending liquid heat down her body and hoisted himself up, moving towards the bar.

Darcy looked at his back and something came over her. She downed her cosmopolitan in one go and strutted to where James leaned against the bar, propping himself up on the stool next to his back.

She tapped on his shoulder. He turned.

"Can I buy you a drink mister?", she drawled.

She wasn't a bold woman. But with James, she felt like the safest and most confident person in the world.

James turned fully towards her, his face showing no recognition of her except his eyes that sparkled at her.

"Sure", he spoke, his rough voice travelling over her bare arms.

"A martini with olives and a Russian vodka gimlet please", she called out to the nearest bartender and turned towards James on her stool.

"So", she spoke, as the bartender kept the drinks before them, twirling her straw. "All alone on St.Patrick's day?"

James took a sip of his drink. "What can I say", he shrugged. "I'm single at the moment."

Darcy pretended to ponder over that for a moment.

"An okay-ish looking man like you?" Her eyes took him head to toe, finally coming to rest on his eyes. "Single?"

James shrugged thoughtfully. "What about you?"

She leaned closer to him and whispered confidentially, "well I'm not single. But my boyfriend is an _utter_ douche."

"Why?", James replied, as if actually curious.

Darcy sighed remorsefully.

"Well, for starters, he texts me only two things", Darcy spoke. "Okay and good", she pointed out the two words on her fingers. "Gets on my nerves really."

James nodded agreeably.

"And secondly", she spoke and then leaned back, twirling the straw of her glass. "I don't really know if I should say that."

James came closer to her, acting out with her perfectly. "You should tell me, little bird."

She looked into his eyes and pretended to ponder over that for a moment. Then she leaned forward and cupping her hand over her mouth, spoke, "our sex life is old and boring."

James looked at her regretfully. "Then how do you cope?"

Darcy sighed. "Well I fake orgasms _all_ _the time._ "

And then James upped the game by a thousand. His hand travelled across the curve of her waist, skimming the side of her breast and finally tugged at a strand of her hair lying below her shoulder.

"How about you un-fake it today", he spoke roughly, shifting even closer to her.

Darcy's breath collapsed.

"Won't that be cheating?", she whispered.

"It's St.Patrick's day. That douche is not out with you today; you're out to get lucky, doll."

Darcy swallowed but kept up with the charade, thinking over it for a moment.

"That is true, I suppose", she replied slowly.

James came closer to her face. "That is true." His breath billowed over her face. He tugged at her hand, pulling her down from the stool she was perched on and led her to a dark hallway and into a bathroom. He pulled her into a stall and closed the door.

Darcy crinkled her nose. " _Really_ , an orgasm here-"

But she never got to voice her discontent.

James pushed her against the door and kissed her; open wet mouth, teeth clashing against each other, mouths nipping at each other.

Darcy breathed heavily as she broke away from him.

James, however, didn't stop. He knelt down on the floor, his mouth level with her crotch as she was in four inch heels. He looked up at her under his lashes, and staring into her wide eyes, hiked her dress up and placed an open mouth kiss on her clit.

Darcy shivered.

James sucked her through the cloth of her panties, soaking them further, and as soon as she was near to orgasming, her hand wrapped in his hair, he stopped.

Darcy keened low in her throat.

He placed soft kisses on the skin of her inner thighs, and brought her down from her near high. Then so quickly that Darcy didn't even know it had happened, he ripped off her panties and proceeded to eat her out fully, his tongue lapping up at her sensitive tissues with abandon.

Darcy's torso arched and as soon as she hit her peak, James stood up and opened his zipper and thrust inside her. Darcy let out a loud moan, her pleasure exquisite.

James placed his lips close to her ear. "You're coming with me inside you."

And as he thrust once, Darcy, already wound up high, hit her peak. She nearly collapsed but James' arm held her up.

James continued thrusting into her, taking his pleasure from her and building her up again. His hand pulled her hair and gripped her body with ferocity. Rough, just the way she liked it.

Darcy's mouth opened, no sound escaping from it. James muttered muffled curses against her neck.

And then his finger brushed her clit once, twice while thrusting and she came apart, his lips on hers, swallowing the sounds she made. He hit his peak, biting her neck harshly.

It was silent for a moment, except for their laboured breaths echoing across the small dinghy stall.

Darcy finally lifted her head up from his shoulder and looked at him in the eye.

" _My boyfriend would not like that_."

 

**#4 : Christmas**

Darcy skipped out of the personal living room in the early morning, her hair in a burgundy fluffy cap, wearing a dark green sweater with a white reindeer knitted on it.

For the very first time, she'd woken up before James and he hadn't gotten to know. She'd fabricated a fight over some nonsensical thing in the night and slammed the bedroom door in his face. She'd been very very convincing in her acting. He'd stomped over to the guest bedroom and slammed the door back, the metal shaking in its hinges.

She'd woken at four in the morning, peeked into the guest room to find him sleeping on his side and then she'd silently creeped up to the side storage closet, whipping out the already decorated medium sized Christmas tree and the presents she'd painstakingly packed and set it all up.

 _Surprise_.

Darcy walked to his room and opened the door fully, going to sit on the bed beside his body, her legs folded in Indian style.

She poked him in the stomach.

"Get up."

Little turns.

She poked him again.

"Get up."

James' eyes blinked open, instantly alert. And then his eyes lidded.

"Oh so your mood's fine now?", he spoke, his tone scathing.

Darcy held her breath.

"Come on get up", she spoke steadily, looking at him straight in the eye.

James stared at her unblinkingly, getting up and standing at the side of the bed, not reacting to whatever she said.

Stoic James.

The absolute worst.

Darcy sighed. She'd have to take desperate measures.

She launched herself at James, wrapping her legs and hands both around his torso, clinging to him like a koala bear, burying her face in his neck. She kissed the skin of his neck and then looked up at him, smiling sunnily to his stony expression.

"Let's go the the living room", she spoke brightly.

He gave no reaction and without wrapping his arms around her, walked to the living room, his strides long, picking up the orange juice from the kitchen counter on the way.

As soon as he entered the living room and caught sight of the Christmas festivities, he froze.

Darcy waited for him to react but he stood absolutely still; absolutely no movement in his muscles. She slid down his body, standing up straight.

She looked at him. He looked lost.

"Is it", she hesitated, swallowing. "Is it not fine?", she whispered, looking over his body and clasping his hand.

He still didn't react, just kept on staring at the Christmas decorations.

Worry and fear mounted in Darcy. Had she done something to trigger his episodes? Was he going through a flashback? Was he hurting?

She let go of him and walked towards the Christmas gifts and tree in short quick steps. "I'll remove it", she spoke in a whisper. "I'll just do it." She gathered the gifts. "Just give me-"

And she felt firm hands grasp her from behind, turn her around and grip her hard. James clasped her body to his, his face buried in her hair, his body still. Darcy froze.

It was all still for a few minutes, their bodies melded together, breathing as one.

James finally loosened his grip on her, bringing her face to his, his hands rising up to cup her face. He cleared his throat. "I've not celebrated Christmas in eighty five years", he rasped.

Darcy's throat thickened.

James' eyes shined with emotion.

"Thank you", he spoke hoarsely. "For giving me this."

Darcy looked up at him and smiled a watery smile. She rose on her tiptoes brushing her lips against his once.

And spoke against his mouth.

"Do you want to open presents?"

 

**#5 : New Year's Eve**

Darcy swung her legs in the wide air, sitting on the ledge of the roof on the one hundred and fifty fourth floor.

"Hi air", she whispered, completely drunk. "Do you want me to come get you?"

She put her shot of tequila next to her and reached her hands out but couldn't move her body an inch.

She looked back at James in annoyance. "The air needs me", she huffed, her lips pursed in annoyance, air puffing out of her lips in the dense cold.

James had his metal arm firmly around her waist, not letting her move an inch, standing beside her as she sat on the ledge and looked over at New York City. His other free hand nursed a vodka glass.

James looked at her, his right eyebrow raised.

"What", Darcy replied, spreading her hand around in a swipe in the air. "It needs me."

"Well darling," James leaned closer to her. "I need you too."

Darcy scoffed.

"You can't seduce me with cheesy lines."

James grinned. "I don't need to seduce you", he whispered. "You're already seduced."

Darcy's breath shallowed, arousal building through her veins. She leaned back from him a little, turning her head away from his, looking at New York in the night.

Muted music could be heard from downstairs. They'd ditched the party, as per usual and escaped to the roof.

James moved closer to her, kissing her bare neck. "Do you want to go back inside?", he whispered against her neck. Darcy shivered with his closeness.

She blinked.

"What no," she spoke, nearly outraged. She turned her head back to him, their noses touching. "Do you want to?"

James gave her a look. "Do I ever want to go join a party willingly?"

Darcy clucked her tongue. "Why can't you answer with a simple no?", she spoke. "Moving around in riddles, always."

James pressed closer to her.

"Because that's boring", he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Yes, she would.

The part she liked best about him was that he challenged her; his questions in reply to her questions, him talking in riddles, him questioning her. And in turn, she challenged him; putting him in the most precarious situations, never telling him anything directly, leaving him to decipher. All a part of their relationship.

She merely hmm-ed in her throat, not giving him the satisfaction of agreement.

"Maybe", she whispered, eyeing his lips.

_Fuck it._

She leaned forward to press her lips against his. But her lips never touched his. He moved his face out of the way.

He moved his face out of the way.

Darcy's eyes widened and she stilled in outrage. James' lips pressed to her cheek, whispering in her ear, "it's about to be a new year."

Darcy took a deep breath.

"So what?", she bit through her teeth.

James leaned back and looked her in the eye. "You've been on a non-kissing spree since morning", he said. "No James no kissing", he imitated her poorly. "And now when I'm trying to reinforce your rule, you have a problem with it?"

He raised his eyebrows at her.

Darcy scowled.

"We could've kissed through till midnight", she muttered crossly.

James smiled at her, cherishingly, and she raised her hand up to face palm him.

There was a loud cheer from downstairs and the gong of the countdown sounded. James moved closer to her, meshing their bodies together.

"One."

James caught her hand in his and kissed her fingers.

"Two."

Kiss on the palm.

"Three".

Kiss on the shoulder.

"Four."

Nip on the neck.

"Five."

A delicate suckle on the neck.

"Six."

Lips brushing against her cheek.

"Seven."

Kiss on the nose.

"Eight."

A swipe of tongue against the seam of her lips.

"Nine."

A bite on her lower lip.

"Ten."

James kissed her fully, his lips melding with hers,

their tongues tangling in a deep rhythm,

creating their own music,

marking the end of another beautiful year,

heralding the crescendo of another.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
